Watch Out For The Brain Stealers
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: It turns out that blood loss Dirk and feverish Dirk aren't that different. Todd/Dirk


When amber winter sunlight streams through the curtains and wakes Todd, he feels as though he's trapped in a furnace. Considering that Dirk's like a limpet when asleep Todd's used to waking up warm but this level of heat is crazy and so he quickly tries to free himself from the human oven. It isn't easy, with each limb Todd frees himself from another one winds back around to take its place, but eventually he manages it, even if his boyfriend whines at the loss. Todd rolls his eyes and it's when he bends down to press an indulgent kiss on Dirk's head that he realises there's a reason for Dirk's warmness.

The detective's face is flushed, waxy and despite the heat radiating from him he's shivering. His bottom lip is jutted out in a frown as he tugs the sheets back into the empty space Todd has left, bundling them up under his chin.

"Shit," Todd curses softly as he presses the back of his hand against Dirk's forehead. It confirms what he already knows – Dirk has a fever.

"You just had to spend all night in that dumpster; didn't you?" Todd sighs and of course, Dirk is unresponsive. He thinks back to what his mom used to do whenever he and Amanda got sick. He remembers a lot of home-made soup but Todd's never been very good in the kitchen. Aspirin might help though, so would cooling down Dirk.

Todd starts with getting a cold flannel, wringing it before laying it on Dirk's forehead. The shock of the chill makes Dirk jolt and then he's blinking into awareness, though by the looks of it, that was using the word loosely. Dirk's eyes are glazed over, his expression confused as he stares at Todd.

"Todd?"

"Hey Dirk," Todd greets, readjusting the flannel where it had begun to slip off. Dirk tracks his movements.

"Brain cold," he complains, lifting a weak hand in an attempt to swipe off the cold cloth. Todd stops him gently, lacing their fingers together.

"You're sick Dirk. This is what happens when you don't listen to me and stay in a dumpster overnight in the middle of winter," he explains but unfortunately, Dirk's too out of it to properly appreciate his 'I told you so'. Dirk's other hand is slowly creeping out beneath the blanket and Todd captures that one too. His boyfriend glares at him, betrayed and his fingers wiggle in protest beneath Todd's.

"Todd," he whines. "My brain's numb."

"You've got a fever, the flannel will help bring it down so don't try and get rid of it, okay?"

Dirk narrows his eyes at him briefly before they suddenly widen in alarm and he gasps.

"You're trying to steal my brain!"

Todd blinks.

"Uh, no. No I'm not Dirk. Your brain is fine where it is. You're just sick."

Dirk attempts to struggle out of his hold and even though Todd's not the strongest, Dirk at full health barely has more strength than Shitten.

"'m not sick," Dirk mutters sullenly, giving up and pouting mournfully at Todd.

"Yeah you are. That's why you feel bad."

"Never sick. Never. Brain stealer." Todd lets go of Dirk's hands to try and prove his innocence but all Dirk does is burrow further under the covers so that he can just see his eyes which continue to stare daggers at him.

Todd lets out a sigh of exasperation. "So you've never been sick? Never had a cold? Stomach ache?"

"No, universe," Dirk huffs as if 'universe' is a perfectly reasonable explanation all on its own.

Sadly, with Dirk, it is.

"Of course," Todd sighs. "Well, looks like your luck has finally run out."

Dirk simply whines pitifully in response, nestling further so that he's completely covered by the duvet.

"Do you want a drink Dirk, something to eat?"

Todd hears nothing in response and when he lifts up the blanket, Dirk is fast asleep.

* * *

The next time Dirk wakes up, he shouts for Todd. It's more of a hoarse croak to be honest but it's enough that Todd comes flying into the bedroom, wondering if Dirk is dying. He still looks terrible, but more awake and definitely not dying. He pants slightly, leaning against the doorframe.

"What's wrong? Do you need something?"

"I need the loo," Dirk says.

"Oh…right, okay. Do you need to lean on me or…?" Todd trails off at Dirk's scandalised expression.

"I can't walk there! You need to carry me," Dirk says as if it would be obvious Todd would be required to carry him to the bathroom.

"What? Dirk, I'm not carrying you. You're taller than me!" It would be extremely embarrassing to drop Dirk and he isn't sure he wants to go through that sort of mortification.

"That's just cruel and unusual punishment!" Dirk exclaims. "I will not become prey for the cabberwoles!"

…Maybe the fever hadn't died down as much as he'd thought. "The what?"

"Cabberwoles," Dirk repeats seriously. "Don't you see them on the floor?...Of course you don't, they ignore people like _you_ but me…oh in my state they find me extra appetising! Unless…are you working for them? Todd how could you?"

Todd ends up carrying Dirk just to shut him and his accusations up.

"There," Todd grunts as he releases Dirk by the toilet. "You don't need me to do this for you too, do you?"

Dirk frowns, nose upturned as he leans against the wall. His eyes still track the floor, watching out for 'cabberwoles'. "I'm not an invalid."

"Could've fooled me," Todd mutters. He loves Dirk, really he does, but he has to wonder why the universe chose _now_ to make him sick for the first time. Maybe it's karma.

Todd gives Dirk privacy while he does his business, bracing himself for lifting his boyfriend back to bed but fortunately, when the door opens he takes one look at the floor and declares it cabberwole free.

"They must have got bored," Dirk informs him as Todd tucks him back under the sheets. "They never tend to stay in one place too long, habit of not being able to explore more than the floor."

"Sure Dirk," Todd snorts, checking Dirk's forehead once more and deciding to put another flannel on it. Dirk shivers and complains but he's no longer being accused of being a brain stealer so Todd will count that as a win. "Look, I'm going to get you a drink and some food, I'll be right back."

"I want chips," Dirk says and though Todd thinks that's a pretty odd request considering he would've thought he'd want something soft, he complies, bringing back some regular salted chips and tea.

It turns out that Dirk meant fries. Something Todd only finds out when the packet goes flying into his shoulder, most likely meant for his face.

"Why would I want _crisps_?" Dirk asks, horrified. "Unless," his red rimmed eyes narrow. "You were _trying_ to rip my throat to pieces so that I would never be able to speak again and I'd have to be a silent detective who could only mime and-"

Todd shoves some fries in the oven before Dirk can finish.

"This was very nice," Dirk says pleasantly, nibbling on the last of the fries.

"I'm glad you think so," Todd says deadpan, nursing a burn he'd gained in his haste to get the fries out. If he'd known that tending to Dirk was going to risk _his own_ health he might've just called Farah or Amanda to take care of him. Surely they'd be better than him at his.

"Thank you very much Todd," Dirk says sincerely with more clarity than he's been exhibiting so far. "You're the best."

And okay, maybe that's why he didn't call them. A small, selfish part enjoyed taking care of Dirk simply because it meant that he _did_ have the capacity to do a good thing and it stroked his ego. He wanted to be the one who got Dirk better alone; he didn't want to share the credit. Of course, the most important thing was that Dirk got better, not how, but as Todd has always said, he can be a bit of a shitty person sometimes.

"Thanks Dirk," Todd says, smiling. "Do you want to get some more sleep? The fries are all gone, ketchup all mopped up and Dirk nods, passing the plate over to him. To his relief, Dirk falls asleep almost instantly and Todd relishes the peace. He decides to keep an eye on Dirk and reads a comic. There's about a half hour of silence before Dirk begins sleep-talking.

Now, Dirk sleep-talking isn't odd in itself. He's often woken by Dirk muttering out incredibly random facts that sound impossible but turn out to be true when Todd checks his phone. If he can look past the interrupted sleep, it's actually pretty interesting and Todd wonders what sort of stuff a sick Dirk will come up with.

"According to solipsism, nothing exists but our own consciousness. Is anyone even real?"

Todd pauses in turning the page, checks his phone, and then digests. Okay, that _was_ interesting but also kinda disturbing. Dirk shifts, flinging his body over so that he's hugging the pillow and mumbling into the mattress. Todd bends down to hear him better.

"…get older time passes more quickly. Death approaches quicker with every second."

Todd slowly leans back, checks Dirk's forehead one last and decides to watch TV. He is not nearly drunk enough to listen to a sick Dirk sleep-talk.

* * *

Dirk's illness lasts approximately 4 days in total, during which Todd learns that he should never, _ever_ attempt to cook again and that he deserves an award for the amount of patience he's been able to exhibit. It did get easier; with each passing day Dirk became more aware and mobile, and by the end all he had to do was make sure Dirk stayed hydrated and fed.

"So, why do you think you got sick now?" Todd asks while they're lying on the couch in front of the TV, pizza boxes surrounding them (they'd been veggie, that automatically made them sort of healthy).

"Hmm?" Dirk glances up, nudging Todd's hand with his head until the fingers that had stopped running through his hair continue to do so. "Oh, I suppose it was a test."

"A test?"

"To check that you would take care of me and you did! You passed with flying colours!" Dirk says gleefully. "Well, the fire alarm was a bit terrifying but otherwise, wonderful!"

"You…thought I wouldn't take care of you?" Todd asks and Dirk's eyes widen.

"No, no! It was the universe and of course I can't be certain _why_ it chose now of all times but it doesn't matter because you took care of me and I'm all better!"

Todd knows he can either choose to remain offended, or he can stay on the couch and cuddle with his boyfriend. An easy choice really.

"Well, I guess it _was_ a test," Todd teases. "A test of my patience."

"I'll have you know I am an excellent patient," Dirk sniffs, joining in.

Todd huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. Dirk gets a test of his own a few months later when Todd comes down with the flu. Todd would say he didn't milk it for all it was worth, but that would be a complete and utter lie.


End file.
